Artist Kaya Mar holds a satirical painting depicting US President Barack Obama and Russian President Vladimir Putin in Ukraine, outside the Houses of Parliament in London on Tuesday. Picture: REUTERS
Artist Kaya Mar holds a satirical painting depicting US President Barack Obama and Russian President Vladimir Putin in Ukraine, outside the Houses of Parliament in London on Tuesday. Picture: REUTERS

TERRITORIAL greed is as quintessentially Russian as borscht and vodka. Over the centuries, by way of conquest, occupation, colonisation and diplomacy, Russia has developed into one of the largest empires the world has seen. Today, it constitutes 11.5% of the earth’s land mass, more than 17-million square kilometres, and it is still looking for more as its assault on Ukrainian Crimea shows.

If not by way of territorial occupation, the Kremlin has used other ways to dominate and control foreign governments. In the Cold War era, communist ideological imperialism under the guise of supporting so-called progressive forces (a euphemism for revolutionary movements) set up Soviet-compliant puppet regimes in Africa, South America and Southeast Asia. In eastern Europe and central Asia, a cordon sanitaire of subservient communist satellite states was created around Russia’s borders. In the Far East, the Kuril Islands were annexed as part of the spoils of war and never returned to Japan.

Under the leadership of President Vladimir Putin, the practice of territorial control and domination continues. Most recently (in 2008), puny little Georgia’s national sovereignty was violated, forcing it to cede Abkhazia and South Ossetia to Kremlin control. The pretext was "humanitarian intervention for peace enforcement", in effect boiling down to blatant neoimperialism, if not territorial piracy.

Moscow is never consistent in how it justifies territorial piracy, always putting forward some cooked-up rationale. While pushing for the illegal Crimean secession from Ukraine, pending a referendum, Chechnya is refused a similar option. Instead, for many years Russia has been engaged in an inhumane and bloody war against Chechen nationalists fighting for independence. The Kremlin calls it a war against secessionist "terrorists". Rather disingenuously, it blames the people’s revolt in Kiev on the ousted president, Viktor Yanukovych for committing an "illegal coup" (as if some are legal!).

Against the background of Russian and Soviet history, it is understandable why a deep-down homo sovieticus and former KGB officer like Putin would lament the disintegration of the Soviet Union as "the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the 20th century". It explains why he made it his mission to restore the status quo in one way or another, recuperating the humiliating losses the Soviet empire suffered in 1991 and restoring Russia’s greatness as a world power. Ukraine is simply part of a recurring, predictable pattern in his foreign policy strategy.

But the West seems at a loss to break this pattern, preferring instead to follow a low-risk, reactive, muddling-through mode of diplomacy, as was the case in the war against Georgia and now the threatening illegal secession of the Crimean peninsula. This has allowed Putin to dictate Eurasian regional diplomacy almost at will, running circles around western leadership and tinpot diplomats. Putin, no doubt, is a wily and consummate strategist, but as the catastrophic case of Adolf Hitler testifies, western failure to deal with him early and effectively could lead to serious consequences for world peace.

This time, unfortunately, there is no Winston Churchill around. Will history repeat itself? Putin’s motivation has, disconcertingly, a similar ring to Hitler’s vendetta to take revenge against and nullify the Treaty of Versailles: to rectify the humiliation of the fall of the Soviet Union. His quest to protect ethnic Russians in neighbouring countries corresponds with Hitler’s occupation of part of Czechoslovakia under the pretext of protecting ethnic Germans. Indeed, the countries of Russia’s "near abroad", particularly Moldova, Georgia and Belarus, should be gravely concerned if Crimea is allowed to join Russia.

Looking back, skillful and prescient diplomacy would probably have prevented Russian-western relations declining to their present dangerous level. From 1991 onwards, the West grossly underestimated Russian ability and resolve to define, protect and advance its national interests. It tried to keep Russia weak and compliant to western interests, to isolate it from Europe by granting former Soviet satellite states membership to the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation and the European Union, sidelining it during the war in former Yugoslavia and in global and regional issues, and refusing some form of "Marshall Plan" to an economically devastated nation after the collapse of the Soviet Union. All this rubbed salt in the wounds of a depleted nation, driving home the message it was on its own and had to fend for itself.

The prowestern relationship followed by then Russian foreign minister Andrei Kozyrev in the early 1990s came to nothing and he was dumped. Former president Boris Yeltsin ominously warned of a threatening "cold peace" relationship with the West. And predictably, under Putin, the worm turned completely. The West simply "lost" Russia and, with the standoff about Ukraine and Crimea, a new Cold War is in the offing.

Much of the blame for recurring crises in Russian-western relations must be laid at the door of incompetent western diplomacy and leadership. Nothing was learnt or forgotten, as the West seems ready to embark on economic and diplomatic sanctions against Russia. But sanctions are not the answer and promise to be counterproductive. Besides, sanctions would no doubt elevate Putin’s popularity among fellow Russians to new heights, increasing his confidence and obduracy. Moreover, as history has shown, Russia is not a country to give in to threats or blackmail.

A wise and sensible starting point towards a long-term settlement would be recognition by the West that Russia has legitimate security interests that should be reconciled with western interests in one way or another.

Putin’s main foreign policy aim is to recover influence and effective control over the space of the former Soviet Union, the "near abroad". Without this kind of geopolitical arrangement, Russia feels vulnerable, in particular to the Russian Federation possibly fragmenting. It has seen its western frontier move more than 1,000km from the former West German border to Belarus. With Ukraine under western influence, Russia might even feel seriously threatened.

Therefore, in the interests of peaceful co-existence, the West must do more to allay Russian concerns by looking anew at the security architecture of eastern Europe. But, since 1991, it has done just the opposite, following a policy interpreted by Russia as piecemeal encroachment.

Perhaps both the West and Russia should learn from history. At the end of the Napoleonic Wars, in 1814-15, European statesmen, including Metternich, Castlereagh, Talleyrand and Tsar Alexander I, met at the Congress of Vienna to decide the geopolitical future of Europe. One hundred years of peace in Europe followed. It is a pity the West never had similar diplomatic prescience in 1991 to lay down the architecture and ground rules for future relations with and among the former Soviet states.

Unfortunately, diplomats of the calibre of a Castlereagh, Metternich and Talleyrand are not around, hence the shambolic relations with Russia. South Africa, so far, has remained silent on the crisis. It would be a boost to its diplomacy, in the Brics context in particular, if it could be instrumental in establishing a summit à la Congress of Vienna, to find a better, more lasting solution than sanctions to end the crisis between Russia and the West.

Olivier is extraordinary professor in the department of political sciences at the University of Pretoria and a former South African ambassador to Russia.